


Hell

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blood, ClinTasha if you squint, Gen, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Nat go on vacation only for Clint to discover that Loki doesn't handle losing very well.</p><p>Written for Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell

The sound of the ocean and the muggy heat had awoken Clint. He squinted in the bright light, despite the sunglasses on his face. A water bottle was next to him on the beach towel, along with his and Nat's shoes, a bag, and a mini cooler.

Each year they were given a few weeks of paid vacation and had made it their goal to visit a different place each time instead of just being bored at home.

This year, they chose Hawaii. Nat had initially said no until Clint had found an amazing hotel that SHIELD would (begrudgingly) pay for. It had a man made lagoon in the centre that connected to the ocean, a giant gym and day spa, multiple pools and hot tubs, gorgeous rooms, and live entertainment and buffets each night. Taking everything into consideration, Nat had agreed that Hawaii was their vacation spot this year and off they headed to the island state. They'd stayed at the hotel for the first four days before going out an exploring the rest of the island.

Clint was glad that he didn't get sunburnt easily; it was hard to tell how long he'd been out and they'd both left their phones in their rooms. He got up and stretched, wondering why it was so quiet and empty. To his left and right, the sand and the ocean stretched endlessly, with no one in sight aside from some seagulls that were picking at a dead crab.

Barton frowned. It was still sunny outside and the locals had been swarming the place earlier along with the tourists. What'd happened? There was no way that Nat would've abandoned him with her things; for as close as they were, she was still secretive, and preferred to keep things to herself. Clint understood - that type of paranoia came with the profession of being a spy. So he couldn't help but worry that something had happened.

Of course, that didn't make much sense either. Tasha was tough (probably tough to take on two of Clint in hand-to-hand combat) and he wasn't a heavy sleeper. He would've woken up sooner if there'd been a fight.

It was if everyone had just disappeared, leaving Clint alone with the blue ocean at high tide.

He picked up his and Nat's things, packing everything into the bag aside from the water bottle, which he cracked open and drank greedily from.

With everything packed, he walked off towards the left, moving close enough to the ocean so that the cool water lapped at his feet. The wet sand was soft and crumbled under his feet as he walked along in search of anyone.

As he walked along, the sand started to change in color. It started at first with a few spots of red appearing in the otherwise uniform white sand. He tucked it away into a corner of his mind as he continued along listening to the cry of gulls and the waves. The spots started to grow until the beach was covered in red sand, glistening under the sun light. When he got to this point, he stopped walking.

He felt naked despite wearing a full body swim suit; he longed for his bow and quiver of arrows that he'd left in his hotel. There was obviously something very wrong; he could feel it in his gut.

He looked out to the ocean and saw that the water was now stained red as well. When the very tip of a wave hit him, it felt sticky.

 _Blood._ He thought as he wriggled his toes in the liquid. _The ocean's turned to blood._ He wasn't a squeamish man but the sight, the smell, and the thought of all that blood was disturbing. The waves started to come higher, casuing his leg hair to stick to his skin.

He moved back from the water, squishing into the blood soaked red sand, his feet staining red. But the ocean pursued him. Waves came faster and harder, almost like its goal was to knock the archer down and drag him under.  
 _YOU OWE US._ The ocean yelled as it crashed into his legs, mid-calf. _YOU TOOK US AND YOU OWE US._

He doesn't look at the blood, he turns and sprints away; he doesn't see the bodies floating in the blood, limbs and rotting corpses like chains of seaweed chasing, chasing him down. Some stayed where the blood crashes, others receded with it only to try to find Clint again, to knock him over with what remains of them.

It's almost up to his knees when he starts to feel fatigued and it's at that point that he feels something reach out of the blood and touch him. He still didn't look at it and succeeded in kicking it away with one foot. But soon it returned, this time accompanied with a partner. Hands. He shuddered at the thought as they wrapped around his ankles. They started to pull and but it wasn't enough to knock him make him slip. Instead, he continued to run, dragging the bodies with him.

Eventually, he succumbed to the blood and the hands. They both surrounded him, stinging his eyes and tearing at his limbs as they pulled him under further. He failed to fight off the grips of the bodies and his body screamed for air. His and Nat's bag was lost in the claret liquid.

 _I'm going to drown._ He thought, one of the hands reaching out to claw at his throat. _I'm going insane and I'm going to drown._ He had always thought he'd die on a mission, not by drowning.

He welcomed the touch of death. One bubble of air slid from his lips as blood rushed into his nostrils and mouth. His heart stopped.

 

 

 

 

And started back up again.

It was dark. Or so Clint thought before he realized that his eyes were still closed. He was no longer wet or in just his swim wear. He felt the familiar material of his SHIELD uniform though he still lacked his bow and quiver. He tried to move, but only his fingers twitched.

"Ahhh," His body chilled at the sound of the voice. "So the little hawk awakens."

 _Loki._ He gritted out in hs mind, still unable to open his eyes.

"I'm so glad that you remembered. After all, we had such a special connection back on Earth, puppet." Clint heard the smirk and sneer in the demi-god's voice.

 _Where am I?_ He asked, attempting to move again.

"Doesn't matter. You'll not be leaving any time soon. No one knows where I've hidden away and that won't be changing. So you may as well get comfortable, Barton." He growled the last word, his voice right next to Clint's ear. "After all, it's time we get reacquainted, isn't it?" He asked rhetorically as Clint felt a blade cut through his clothes and his skin.

He couldn't scream.

He couldn't move.

He could only listen to Loki's laughter as his mind was blinded with pain.


End file.
